Diary Of A Lost Girl: The Miho Nosaka Files
by the Under-Cover Fangirl
Summary: Miho Nosaka disappeared. A girl full of smiles fell from the earth, never to be seen again by her friends. But then, people don't just disappear. Something happens. Based off of The Friend I Was Looking For by Scribbler. HIATUS


_DISCLAIMER!: I own nothing. Nada._

_I wrote this to 1) help me with my role play character and to 2) make a continuation of the The Friend I Was Looking For fic by Scribbler._

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**Miho Nosaka.**

**She disappeared after the episode 27 of the Toei anime.**

**But she didn't just disappear, though that's how it might seem.**

**Something had to have happened.**

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_She couldn't go one more day,_

_Home was more prison now._

_Independence called out;_

_She had to get it._

_A fight was all she needed_

_To give a reason._

_She slammed the door with no goodbye_

_And knew that it was time._

**~She Walked Away by BarlowGirl**

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A ratty backpack with the luggage of a life.

A one way train ticket to nowhere in particular.

A missing goodbye to friends who would not forget easily.

They all started with a yellow ribbon.

Her name was Miho Nosaka. She was five foot five with lavender hair and heart heavy with secrets.

Her friends called her "Ribbon" or "Ribbon-chan" because of the yellow ribbon that she always wore in her hair.

To everyone but herself, she was a cheery girl with a perfect complexion who gave meaning to the word cute.

Her life was once full of things like trips to amusement parks paid for by her latest boy toys and celebrity gossip on girls' nights out(though relationships never lasted long).

It was all fun until she came home to her father, perfectionist who had to be over-professional with his accounting job, and let herself be strewn apart by slurs of martini-drunken insults.

The makeup that her mediocre stepmother gave her was no consolation.

Then Yuugi came into play. And Anzu. And Jounochi, and Honda, and Bakura. They weren't like other people, they were friends.

_Real _friends.

Not just the kind who hung out at the mall together, but the kind who stuck together through magical megalomania and came out with their absolute trust still in tact.

If they only knew that long after the ribbon was out of her hair, when the concealer could no longer hide the bruises, that Miho was still there, a different person than they knew.

Honda-- oh, he was too sweet. He called her beautiful, an angel, and did everything for her. If he only knew.

Well, that one night, that night that was too long ago to remember-- back when teenage girl things seemed so big and the real world was so far away-- she had had it. She understood all to well why her mother left and knew that had to, too.

Miho packed up everything she had, than dumped it all out and took her old junior high backpack.

She piled into it anything that she could think of needing, rushing and forgetting her toothbrush. Somehow that wasn't what she had on her mind.

Underwear, a jacket, all of her baggy clothes(because she knew how useless her dresses would be), her tennis shoes, all of the money she could find lying around and in her Hello Kitty piggy bank.

The last thing-- she took that purple journal her mother got her. She had never been much of a writer, never been particularly interested in archiving herself, but now seemed like a great time to start.

Miho had seen all of the TV dramas. She knew just what she was taking on and giving up in running away.

And just like all of the TV drama heroines, she was moving too quickly to possibly consider the consequences.

With the backpack hanging on her shoulders, weighing her down like winter waistline, she went downstairs.

Leaving a sticky note on the fridge that she would be going to the mall and would be back before dinner, Miho snuck past her father who was deep in a drunken slumber and left her house.

Down familiar roads, she made the way that she usually went by car, either driven by Honda or Jonouchi.

Walking anxiously, Miho began to fear that her stepmother would come home from work early and see Miho walking the ditch beside the road.

Erupted from her thoughts, she looked up to see that once inconsequential sign; it was the corner Kashiwagi and Kuriku.

Having ben caught up with herself, there was now a decision Miho had to make.

Left or right.

Left or right.

Left or right?

Left. . . the life that she was living. Holding in all of the secrets. Giggling when it nearly hurt to. Living in a box.

Or. . .

Right.

It was the "other" on this two choice-questionnaire.

Who knew what it held? Maybe everything she ever wanted, maybe immediate death.

But then, that chance was enough.

That first footstep was done awkwardly, and Miho nearly fell to a broken ankle. She recovered it, however, and went on her way.

Snapping out her purple, rhinestone-d cell phone in a manner that was most familiar, Miho pressed in the numbers 411, got the number for the train station, and requested the soonest ticket to the Akihabara Station in Tokyo.

After reserving a ticket and going through her Hello Kitty wallet to ensure that she could pay, Miho snapped her beloved cell phone shut and, without a second thought, threw it over the edge of the highway she was walking alone on.

Looking over the edge into the ravine, Miho winced as every saved text, holding confidential secrets and joyous plans for days out, fell down through the cold water.

It didn't matter, because it could be easily tracked, and where she was going, she wouldn't need it. But still. . .

All of her memories, the jocular reminiscences and the traumatic recollections, short circuited and drifted down into nothingness.

With a sigh, she made a pact to herself to be survive, to not be someone effected by the loss of her entire life as she knew it.

Things would be different.

Everything would be different.


End file.
